In Krumlov
by Amber
We held onto the last hours of the night and lingered at the pub long after other patrons had left. Even after tying scarves and buttoning our coats, we stayed, talking with our waitress so long a round of slivovitz had passed our lips before we thought again of leaving. Our waitress laughed with empathy at our reluctance to depart and poured a second round, this time Becherovka. The sweet spice tasted like sparkling gold, like Christmas in my mouth. “No, no,” she smiled as we reached for our wallets, “the drinks are my treat. Merry Christmas.”
{image by me}
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It’s been a while. Hope things are going well for you, and you have adjusted to the tiny cups.
You have painted a wonderful picture. Have a Happy New Year!
Thank you! Your comment made my day. And all the best to you, too, for 2012!